What Fate Is
by D-Watson
Summary: In the aftermath of Battle City, the other Yugi wonders about fate. Anzu wonders about her crush on the other Yugi. Revolutionshipping. Kinda. Not really.


Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing!

_Summary: In the aftermath of Battle City, the other Yugi wonders about fate. Anzu wonders about her crush on the other Yugi. Revolutionshipping. Kinda. Not really._

_Note: Anzu addresses the Pharaoh with 'Yugi' because that's what everyone calls him in the manga and the 4Kids-untainted anime (which is all this stinky manga-and-sub-elitist of a writer recognizes as Yugioh canon).._

* * *

He was, without a doubt, perfectly aware of the situation. This was strange, considering he made no effort to politely shake off her hand when it gingerly came to rest on top of his after hours of silent deliberation. In fact, in one instant, as they stared at the stars from a particularly uncomfortable bench in uptown Domino, his thumb - by accident or design - even brushed against her fingers ever so slightly. And all the interest she might have had in those distant constellations (which undoubtedly held the pattern of that moment since the beginning of time) was obliterated with the force of a thousand big bangs. She knew that if she dared look at him, she would fall to proverbial pieces, and all of Yugi's skill wouldn't help put the puzzle of her dignity back together.

In truth, that she even attempted to make any sort of physical contact with him was solely owing to the fact that that particular night was possibly the last chance she would get. Battle City came and went, the God cards were collected, the door to the other Yugi's memory was about to be opened. And then he'd be gone under the orders of a destiny that made no sense at all, and that ended in some great tragedy, only hinted at, but never revealed.

–I never stop to think that starlight is thousands of years old by the time it reaches us,– the other Yugi said, in a somewhat cryptic manner.

If he had indeed noticed Anzu's hand on top of his not a moment before, he made no reaction when she removed it, startled by the way he broke the silence, and thoughts she knew she shouldn't be entertaining. When she tossed a sideways glance in his direction, she saw that his face was oddly relaxed and his gaze still transfixed on the sky. She had to wonder whether he was talking to her, or just thinking out loud.

–It's funny that I know these things, things that were likely unheard of when I was growing up, and yet I have no idea how to read what's written in the stars.

–Written in the stars?

Yugi looked at her briefly, as if to let her know he wasn't merely talking to himself. It did not make her feel any less confused.

–Anzu, what do you think fate really is?

–I… um… I'm not sure. I guess I haven't given it enough thought,– she blurted out, still unsure as to why he brought up the subject – especially in a conversation with her.

Yugi looked uncharacteristically absent-minded as his eyes traced arcs over the night sky, and to Anzu, something about it felt positively melancholic. Sometimes she had to remind herself that this authoritative, strong figure held a tender heart underneath his confidant and relentless façade. She heard it in his voice, when he talked about his other self. She saw it as he fell apart over Jonouchi's death bed when he thought no one was looking. And she felt it then, as they sat in amiable silence, probably for the first time since she knew him. For all his courage and determination, at that moment, he seemed like someone who was never comfortable with answers, but decided to ask questions just the same.

–Before Battle City,– he said, –I told Aibou that I wanted to stay with him forever. But a lot has changed in the last couple of days. I'm not so sure I can keep that promise.

His fingers delicately traced the links of the chain around his neck as he weighed his next words.

–No, in my heart, I know I can't keep it. – he admitted through a resigned sigh.

_I know it, too_, Anzu thought. _I knew all along._ Still, hearing those words from him made her heart sink a little, and she could not bring herself to make the situation harder on him by betraying any sign of it.

–He wants you to be happy. I'm sure he understands what you have to do. – she assured him, wishing she could say the same for herself, and mean it with all of her heart.

-He does. It doesn't make it any easier, though.

A rare vulnerable moment, and then just like that, the other Yugi stood up, apparently, back to his calm and composed self again.

–It's getting late,– he said. –We should probably get going.

–Yeah… I guess we should.

They walked home side by side in silence, both wrapped up in their respective thoughts. It was too early for goodbyes and too late for confessions. There was nothing to say, really, and she wondered if it bothered him as much as it bothered her. But as they approached her doorstep, she couldn't help sharing one final thought.

–You know, maybe fate is just what we call all those choices we know in our hearts to be right.

–Then fate, – Yugi mused aloud, – belongs to those who follow their heart.

–Yeah… to those who follow their heart.

She took a moment to properly digest the meaning of those words, only to realize what a hypocrite they made her out to be.

–Hmm, interesting concept. Anzu…– the other Yugi looked at her, a strange brand of gentleness in his eyes. –Thank you.

They said their goodbyes and Yugi turned to leave, but then, like an afterthought, Anzu called out to him, suddenly wrapping a pair of clumsy arms around his neck as he turned back in surprise. He didn't hug back. He just stood there like a statue with every muscle in his body tense to the point of discomfort. She couldn't see his face, which, she figured, was probably a good thing, considering the signals the rest of his body was sending out. Or, rather, ones it definitely wasn't sending out.

_Stupid!_

She wanted to say something, anything, to bare her heart, for better or worse and carry on living with the knowledge that she, at least, tried. But nothing approachingly dignifying came to her mind, and she released her hold on him with a shameful blush, childishly staring at the tips of her shoes.

–I… um, sorry, I just…– a nervous chuckle escaped her lips. _Shut up, shut up, stop embarrassing yourself, dammit…_

The situation was more than awkward. Another sign of not-quite-friendly affection slipped from her. It was a dangerous trend. Anzu silently cursed herself, wishing she could always be composed enough to keep her hopeless infatuation confined to the recesses of her aching heart. The boy cared for her, that much was evident. But it was the sort of care one gave to a sibling or a close friend. Still, that foolish, decidedly girly part of her couldn't help thinking that his eyes showed something more than that, on those rare occasions when he lowered his guard and the lines on his face disappeared along with the weight of the world, temporarily lifted off his shoulders. Occasions like right then and there, as he observed her wide-eyed and slightly taken aback, time and distance rapidly contracting into the space of the moment. As the initial shock wore off, his lips curved into a small, but genuine smile, and without thinking, he got up on tiptoe and gave her a peck on the cheek. It was probably the first time he physically expressed affection with something other than a high five or a pat on the back. Anzu lifted her head, thrilled and surprised and lost for words and only managed to smile sheepishly before he adjusted his collar, winking her goodbye. She watched him walk away, his shoulders noticeably less tense than when they met up earlier that day, and only after he turned the corner did she allow herself to let out a sigh of relief.

Anzu smiled to herself as the scene that took place several moments prior played in her mind on instant repeat. She wanted to memorize every detail, to etch it into her mind and heart, and save it for those imminent cold nights when she would miss him beyond measure, or perhaps just fondly remember him as her long lost first crush – one she could never hope to meet at a high school reunion to rekindle the old flame, Hollywood style. The tilt of his head, the tickle of his breath on her face, the touch of his lips, the scent of his cologne that reminded her of something naval and epic, and all the little details that were unlikely to catch in such a brief moment. The peck. The kiss. It was an interesting choice of action from someone who didn't reciprocate her feelings.

end

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